


“Mission accomplished.”

by LulaIsAKitten



Series: First Kisses [29]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 11:46:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15339192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LulaIsAKitten/pseuds/LulaIsAKitten
Summary: Continuing the series of shorts of possible first kisses between these two. Got a few ideas. Feel free to submit prompts for anything you’d like to see in the comments below or over on Tumblr at lulacat3.





	“Mission accomplished.”

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vulpes86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vulpes86/gifts).



> A gift for Vulpes86. Thank you for the prompt!
> 
> “What about one where Charlotte is harassing Strike and Robin just walks up and plants one on him to make her go away. But then they don’t stop kissing :D”

The Silverton was buzzing, packed with people and a vibrant atmosphere, when Strike and Robin entered. They spotted Nick and Ilsa straightaway. Amazingly, they had managed to bag a table. Greetings were exchanged, and Strike went to the bar for drinks. Nick followed to help, and Robin slid onto the seat opposite Ilsa.

“Good to see you,” she said, and Ilsa grinned. “You too,” she said. “How’s things?”

Robin smiled, fizzing with happiness suddenly. “Good,” she said, flushing a little. She didn’t have to say any more. She knew Ilsa had long harboured a belief that something would happen between her and Strike. Robin had previously dismissed the idea as fantasy, despite her slowly growing feelings for her partner, but something had changed recently. Strike had been so formal for so long, never asking after her marriage, carefully neutral even when she and Matthew were splitting up and through the long, long months of sorting the divorce. Ilsa had been her rock.

But since the divorce came though and she was finally able to move on, something had changed. Strike had relaxed. Their friendship had deepened. And lately... Robin couldn’t put a finger on what it was. No one concrete thing. Just an extension of their morning chats. A fondness in his gaze that made her heart flutter. A lingering over Friday drinks in the Tottenham. His hand on the small of her back sometimes as they left the pub. A touch of fingers as he passed her a mug of tea. Tiny, tiny increments that made her heart sing.

She and Ilsa had discussed these at length over wine, but Robin was in no hurry where Strike was concerned. She liked where they were, and she liked where they were going, and she wanted to enjoy the journey. She was in no hurry to leap into another relationship, but if one was coming her way...

Tonight was a step, she knew. They had spent time with Nick and Ilsa before, but it had just kind of happened, perhaps because of a case that required Ilsa’s expertise or the necessity of moving work to the Herberts’ Wandsworth living room temporarily, or because she and Ilsa had gone shopping and met the men later for a quick drink. Tonight had been planned and arranged for two couples. It felt like a date.

Ilsa squeezed Robin’s hand on the table, and cast a fond glance across to where the men were at the bar. Her gaze darkened.

“Ugh, what’s she doing here?” Robin followed Ilsa’s line of sight and saw Charlotte. She had positioned herself at the bar next to Strike and was trying to engage him in conversation. She looked stunning as always in slim trousers and an expensive top.

Great, Robin thought. The nearest I have ever managed to get to a proper date with Cormoran, and his ex shows up. She sighed. There was no hurry, she supposed. But it bothered her, seeing Charlotte’s incredible beauty and slim figure. She always felt over-large and frumpy in comparison. If that was what he had been used to... Doubts snagged her mind. Maybe I’m just imagining this whole mutual attraction thing just because I fancy him, she thought. He’s never actually made a move, after all, and he’s not exactly shy around women.

“Robin, stop it,” Ilsa warned. “I can see you thinking.”

Robin sighed again. “Well, look at her,” she said. “I can hardly compare.”

Ilsa took her hand again. “You’re totally different, Robin,” she said. “That woman is crazy. She’s beautiful, yes, but she’s messy and insecure and they fought all the time. He’s a happier person around you.”

Robin nodded, but she still doubted. What she and Strike had was really only friendship. From what little she knew of Strike’s relationship with Charlotte, it sounded like it had at least contained high passion, not just comfortable companionship. I can’t exactly offer the same, she thought.

Nick returned with three drinks, leaving Strike at the bar with Charlotte. “I’ve left him to extract himself,” he said, rolling his eyes. Robin glanced across again. Charlotte was leaning in to Strike now, her hand on his arm. Robin scowled. “Why doesn’t he just tell her to get lost?” she wondered crossly.

Ilsa glanced over and away again. “She’s perfectly capable of creating a huge scene in public,” she said. “He’s probably trying to avoid it. He’s not going to get rid of her quietly if she doesn’t want to go, though.”

Nick glared. “I don’t know why he’s even giving her an audience,” he said. “I thought they’d put everything behind them a long time ago. She’s married, for Christ’s sake.”

Robin watched idly as Charlotte carried on. She could see from the body language that Strike was attempting to escape, but Charlotte was having none of it. Indeed, her demeanour looked to be moving from flirtatious to combative.

The three friends chatted for a while, and Robin studiously didn’t look across to the bar again. It was Strike’s problem to deal with as he saw fit. Ilsa was asking her about the case that she was consulting on, a corporate espionage investigation in which Robin had to be very careful to stay on the right side of the law for when everything inevitably went to court.

Presently Robin excused herself and headed to the ladies. She had to pass Strike and Charlotte on her way. She could hear a pleading undertone in the older woman’s voice, but breathy too, and she could see Strike’s barely concealed irritation. Not my business, she thought. Strike glanced at her as she went past, and a look flashed through his eyes that almost looked like a request for help. She hurried on. I imagined that, she thought. Why would he need - or want - my help?

When she got back to the table, Ilsa had fetched more drinks and Strike was still cornered by Charlotte. Ilsa rolled her eyes. “I kind of tried to extract him,” she said as Robin slid back into her seat, “but Charlotte kept talking over me.”

Something in Robin snapped. This was quite ridiculous. She was irritated with Charlotte for monopolising Strike, and a little irritated with him for putting up with it. “Oh, for fuck’s sake!” she said, eliciting raised eyebrows from Ilsa and Nick. She slipped from the table again and marched across the room to the pair at the bar.

“Excuse me,” she murmured, stepping in between them, and without even thinking about what she was doing, she curled an arm up and around Strike’s neck and kissed him full on the mouth.

She had the brief satisfaction of hearing a shocked gasp from Charlotte. The older woman stepped back, glaring.

And then suddenly Robin was in all kinds of trouble as Strike filled her senses. She’d intended a brief smacker of a kiss to make her point, but the smoky, spicy scent of him was in her nostrils, his lips on hers so much gentler than she’d expected, his hair soft and springy in her hand, his chest hard against her. Pleasure leapt within her and she gave a small moan, swaying closer, her lips parting against his.

Strike, taken by surprise, kissed her back. His arm slid around her waist, pulling her in, his lips moving over hers. The crowded pub faded away, leaving only this moment, this kiss, the taste and feel of each other. They were oblivious to Charlotte’s fury, Ilsa’s triumph, Nick’s amusement. All that mattered was each other.

Trembling, Robin moved her lips with his. Her tongue slid forward to explore, finding the scar on his top lip, and she felt him jump at the touch of her, felt his arm pull her closer still. Desire and joy thrilled though her at his reaction. She hadn’t imagined the heat between them. He did want her.

“Classy,” Charlotte drawled sarcastically, and turned on her heel and walked away. With an effort, Robin broke away from the kiss and Strike gazed at her, his breathing uneven.

Robin struggled to catch her breath. “There you go,” she said shakily. “Got rid of her.” She made to step back, but his arm tightened around her waist.

“Where d’you think you’re going?” he murmured.

Robin hesitated at the look in his eyes. “Er, mission accomplished,” she said.

“No, it’s not,” he said softly, smiling. “I wasn’t nearly done kissing you.”

Her heart lurched. “We can’t leave Nick and Ilsa waiting any longer for their dinner.”

“They’ll wait,” he said, and kissed her again.

 

 


End file.
